


What's Whiplr?

by Triangulum



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, D/s tones, Daddy Kink, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Sugar daddy!peter, camboy!Stiles, demisexual!Peter, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 07:04:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10458279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triangulum/pseuds/Triangulum
Summary: Erica, Stiles' roommate, is going to be the death of him, damn it. They've been bitching about how creepy Fetlife can get when Erica suggests Whiplr."What's Whiplr?" Stiles asks."It’s a messaging app for kinky people," Erica says. "You make a profile with what you're into, add a picture of yourself, and you can see who's near you and browse through their profiles.""Isn't that just as easy to run into creepy people as it is on Fetlife?" Stiles asks."Oh for sure," Erica cackles. "But that's the fun part, getting to run people off and scare the shit out of them.""Your version of fun is very different from mine," Stiles says.ORStiles meets Peter on Whiplr and things get kinky.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So Whiplr is real and let me tell you, don't expect much.

Erica, Stiles' roommate, is going to be the death of him, damn it. They've been bitching about how creepy Fetlife can get when Erica suggests Whiplr.

"What's Whiplr?" Stiles asks.

"It’s a messaging app for kinky people," Erica says. "You make a profile with what you're into, add a picture of yourself, and you can see who's near you and browse through their profiles."

"Isn't that just as easy to run into creepy people as it is on Fetlife?" Stiles asks.

"Oh for sure," Erica cackles. "But that's the fun part, getting to run people off and scare the shit out of them."

"Your version of fun is very different from mine," Stiles says.

Erica pouts.

But because Stiles is Stiles, he's curious now and he has to know. So he downloads Whiplr and sets up a profile. He sets his nickname as SS, selects man for gender. It asks for height, weight, and body type, which aren't mandatory, but Stiles does it anyway because what the hell, might as well go the whole way. He sets his sexual preference for men and women. Then come the more...invasive questions.

Here for: friendship, play partners

He's not sure, really, and he feels like that's generic enough.

Relationship status: single

Preferred role: sub

There are other options, dom, switch, mistress, master, protector, teacher, slave, etc, but sub is a role Stiles knows well and is more than happy with. College has been a hell of a learning experience, all right?

Your kinks: behavior, other

Behavior, he supposes. The other options are just curious, fashion, objects, materials, accessories, sounds, shopping, and odors. So yeah, he's going with behavior.

Experience: some

He's not a novice, but he hasn't been doing this for years like Caitlin, the domme he plays with when he's at college. So he doesn't feel quite right saying a lot of experience.

Safeword: red

Well, that's a little personal, he thinks, but he guesses he could see it if people were here for online play.

After that, there's an 'about me' section and god, Stiles hates those. He could leave it blank if he wants to, but that seems shitty. He wouldn't talk to anyone that he just had the basic dimensions of, right? Ugh.

About me: Hi, I'm 21, new to this app and not sure how it works yet. Please don't send me a dick pick, it won't go well. I love impact play, sensation play, and breath play. I have a lot more, but those are my main three.

He figures that's more than enough. After that, it has him do a kink survey where he picks his top fifteen kinks from a list and rates them from 'no experience, curious,' to 'I like it', to 'I love it'. He spends way longer than he'd like to admit whittling down the list until he finally has fifteen he's happy with. Why should he be limiting himself anyway? Ugh.

His phone almost immediately alerts him to new messages. A lot of from men asking that he call them Daddy. Others...

_Hello Princess, I'd certainly love to see your hands tied_

and 

_I want you to suck off my friend while you ride my sybian_

and his personal favorite

_I'd like to make you waffles while you watch on your knees_

_I bet you would_ Stiles writes back. 

He engages with them for a while and Erica's right, it can be fun to fuck with someone until they give up. One guy, an older man demands pictures of Stiles other than the one he'd used for his profile pic (just a standard selfie). Stiles keeps stringing him along, claiming more and more outlandish kinks until he's got the old man convinced that Stiles has a fetish for fir trees and he can only come with a candle that smells like sap.

It gets boring after a bit though. After a few days, the messages have slowed and he only gets a few. He starts talking with a guy whose nickname is Daddy Tom. He's in his late thirties, tall, with brilliant blue eyes and Stiles has a type, okay, so sue him. At first things are going fine. Daddy Tom seems a little boring, but he's not crude or anything so Stiles thinks fuck it, some people just suck at conveying anything over messages. Then, Stiles takes a nap because it's been a long fucking week, and when he comes back, he has another message from Daddy Tom. This one is less...acceptable.

_From: Daddy Tom  
Do you think it's polite to have replied to Daddy so late?_

And Stiles? Okay, Stiles loses. His Shit. It's been a hard day and he is fucking done.

To: Daddy Tom  
Excuse me?  
No wait, EXCUSE ME?  
You are NOT my daddy, I am NOT yours, we did NOT negotiate anything like this and I owe you jack fucking shit.

Daddy Tom tries to talk Stiles down, tries to tell him how unreasonable he's being, how silly, and eventually how he's shitty sub that no one will want. Stiles sends him a big middle finger before blocking him.

Stiles wants to text Erica demanding how she didn't warn him about how garbage people can be, when he remembers that Erica, a woman, has plenty of experience with men being garbage to her and is pretty numb to it by now. And that makes him even more depressed because fuck, how often does he not notice it? And to be fair, she did warn him, he supposes.

Stiles is about to say fuck it and delete the whole app since people are obviously a waste of fucking time, when it alerts him that he has another message. Stiles hopes it's not another guy sending a picture of his dick because Stiles really doesn't want to threaten someone's life.

_From: GrayWolf42  
I'm guessing you're currently drowning in requests for nudes and dozens of faceless men demanding to be your Daddy?_

Curious, Stiles clicks on the profile before he replies and damn, GrayWolf42 is fucking hot, okay? He’s probably in his mid-thirties and has the artful stubble that makes a lot of men look like douchebags but somehow it works for him. And those blue eyes, fuck, and the thick neck. Holy mother of god.

To: GrayWolf42  
Are you psychic, dude? Because right on fucking point.

_From: GrayWolf42  
I just know there are a lot of people on here who think that being on a kink messenger means they can send whatever they want._

To: GrayWolf42  
Well you're right on the money there. That's not what I'm here for, but that's what I'm getting.

_From: GrayWolf42  
What are you here for?_

And that's the question, isn't it? Stiles isn't entirely sure.

To: GrayWolf42  
To meet people, I guess. I don't know if that means friends, play partners, more, idk. My friend recommended the app to me because the domme I'd been playing with moved away.  
Hbu?

_From: GrayWolf42_  
I'm sorry to hear that, were you two together?  
As for me, I'm involved in the community and am always open to meeting new people. 

Stiles checks GrayWolf's profile and sees that he's just fifty miles away. That's relatively close compared to some of the people that have messaged him from 500+ miles away.

To: GrayWolf42  
Nah, we were just friends. Really close friends with spanking benefits.  
I didn't really realize there was a community around here.

_From: GrayWolf42:  
Oh there is. It's just very tight-knit and hard to find._

Stiles thinks about asking more, but he can't tell if that's GrayWolf's way of telling him to back off or not, so he lets it be. For now.

To: GrayWolf42  
Rad  
I just wanted to thank you, dude. You’re one of the only people since I’ve made this thing that hasn’t sent me a dick pic.

_From: GrayWolf42  
Well first of all, sending an unsolicited picture of one’s dick is crass and lazy. Second, I'm not talking to you with the singular desire to get in your pants. No offense. I'm demisexual, I don't experience sexual attraction unless I have an emotional connection with someone. That isn't to say I don't find you very aesthetically pleasing, because I do_

To: GrayWolf42  
No offense taken, I know what demi is. Thanks, though, I’m glad to know someone as hot as you can find me aesthetically pleasing.  
Why _are_ you talking to me then?

_From: GrayWolf42  
The level of sass in your profile amuses me. Plus, we have a lot of the same kinks._

To: GrayWolf42  
How does that work with you being demisexual?  
Wow I just realized how insanely personal that is.  
Ignore me, sorry.

_From: GrayWolf42  
Don’t worry, it’s fine. If I weren’t okay with questions, I wouldn’t have told you in the first place. Not all play has to be sexual. For instance, the act of tying someone up in itself is a sort of release for both people. It doesn’t have to involve anything sexual at all._

To: GrayWolf 42  
That…that makes a lot of sense. I kind of feel like an idiot for not thinking about that before now.

_From: GrayWolf42  
Don’t. Plus, everyone is different. What works for me might not work for someone else._

To: GrayWolf42  
Yeah, I get that.

Stiles doesn’t know what else to say. He really wants to keep talking to GrayWolf, but it feels like the conversation is dying right in front of him. Luckily, his phone pings and another message from GrayWolf comes through.

_From: GrayWolf42  
So, SS, tell me a little about yourself? What made you realize you wanted a dom?_

To: GrayWolf  
I don’t want a dom, not really. I’m not really good with structure and the protocol and all that. There are just kinky things I like that I can’t really go up to new people and be like “Hey, I like to be spanked.”

_From: GrayWolf42  
Ahh okay, that absolutely makes sense. You’d like a kinky partner, but you don’t necessarily want the dynamics that go into it._

To: GrayWolf42  
Yes! Thank you! So many people have such a hard time getting that

_From: GrayWolf42  
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to have your ass paddled without calling someone sir or ma’am._

Stiles knows it shouldn’t but that makes his dick twitch in his pants a bit.

_But alas, I need to head to bed. I hope I hear from you again. Goodnight._

Stiles is startled to realize it’s already midnight. He’s been talking to GrayWolf for an hour.

To: GrayWolf42  
I really liked talking to you. Night

Stiles goes to sleep smiling like an idiot, though he isn’t sure why.

Stiles is too busy in his morning classes to message GrayWolf, but he has a break around lunchtime before his psychology 101 class. He fiddles with his phone, unsure for a long time about what to say. Finally, he says fuck it.

To: GrayWolf42  
Did you know that there’s a bioluminescent beach in Puerto Rico where the water turns neon blue when it’s disturbed?

Stiles puts his phone away, not expecting a reply right away, and head to his psych class. Halfway there, his phone buzzes. Normally, Stiles has a very strong policy against looking at his phone and walking, because he knows himself and will absolutely walk into a wall or a person. But he can’t help wanting to see GrayWolf’s reply.

_From: GrayWolf42  
I knew bioluminescent beaches exist, I didn’t know about one in Puerto Rico. _

To: GrayWolf42  
It’s caused by Pyrodinium bahamense. They think mangroves might have something to do with it.

_From: GrayWolf42  
Did you just look that up? If not, that’s impressive_

To: GrayWolf42  
Nope, just leftover knowledge from high school. I did a report on it for my economics class.

_From: GrayWolf42  
How does that have anything to do with economics?_

To: GrayWolf42  
You sound just like Finstock. It just does!

_From: GrayWolf42_  
Haha okay, I’ll take your word for it.  


Stile fist pumps. He got a laugh from GrayWolf! He then promptly walks into a garbage can and almost falls in, Mean Girl-style. Stiles puts his phone away until he gets to class.

To: GrayWolf42  
Sorry for the delay, I had to walk to class and believe me, I’m not coordinated enough to text and walk at the same time.

_From: GrayWolf42  
I’m hoping by class, you mean a college class? And stay safe, don’t fall._

To: GrayWolf42  
You joke, but I fall walking all the time. And yeah, I’m in college at Berkeley.

_From: GrayWolf42  
I’m relieved. Your profile says you’re 21, but people lie. I’d hate to be enjoying a conversation with a high schooler on a kinky messenger app._

To: GrayWolf42  
Oh no, dude I’m totally 21, no worries. I have a driver’s license and an apartment and everything. Adulthood…yeah…

_From: GrayWolf42  
Finding it’s not what you thought it would be when you were younger?_

To: GrayWolf42  
You could say that. My psych class is about to start, I’ll talk to you later?

_From: GrayWolf42  
I look forward to it._

Stiles has a hard time taking notes on the homunculus.

Stiles works at a local bookstore after class, so he doesn’t have time to message GrayWolf until later that night.

To: GrayWolf42  
Did you know that the Anglo-Zanzibar War lasted only 38 to 45 minutes?

_From: GrayWolf42  
What were they fighting over?_

To: GrayWolf42  
The British didn’t like the new sultan, basically

_From: GrayWolf42_  
Ah, imperialism.  
How were your classes? 

To: GrayWolf42  
Good, I suppose. Despite my knowledge of bioluminescent organisms, I’m actually kind of garbage at biology, so that wasn’t exactly fun. But it’s a core class so I have to take it.

_From: GrayWolf42  
I never did like biology much either. I was more into literature and languages._

To: GrayWolf42  
Let me guess, you speak like forty different languages?”

_From: GrayWolf42  
Just four, actually._

Stiles snorts

To: GrayWolf42  
Smartass.

They message back forth until, once again, it’s midnight and GrayWolf needs to sleep. Stiles, who’s only been half-assing his homework, more content to talk to GrayWolf, actually starts working on what’s due tomorrow before he too finally crawls into bed.

Stiles and GrayWolf start talking every day and Stiles has never had easier conversation with anybody, not even with Scott. He loves GrayWolf’s wit, his sarcasm, and his knowledge of random things that almost matches Stiles’.

_From: GrayWolf42  
Did you know there’s an African language that has an entire category of nouns for women, fire, and dangerous objects?_

To: GrayWolf42  
Sure didn’t. Did you know that Napoleon was once attacked by rabbits?

_From: GrayWolf42  
Sure did._

To: GrayWolf42  
Damn it!

Stiles waits a minute before sending his other next message

To: GrayWolf42  
Did you mean what you said when we first started talking? I can be kinky without needing a dom?

GrayWolf’s answer comes almost immediately.

_From: GrayWolf42  
Absolutely, and don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. Kink is something you define on your own (as long as you aren’t hurting others in a way they don’t want, of course). There’s no right or wrong way. _

To: GrayWolf42  
Thanks, I needed to hear that.

_From: GrayWolf42  
Did the domme you played with ever tell you otherwise?_

To: GrayWolf  
Oh, no! Caitlin was great. She didn’t care that I don’t like the honorifics like ma’am or mistress. She was fine with exploring what I liked.

_From: GrayWolf42  
Then why so worried?_

To: GrayWolf42  
There are soooo many people on fetlife and whiplr that are very much ‘I am a DOM and an alpha male and REAL subs like to do XYZ’

_From: GrayWolf42  
They’re tools and useless, pay them no mind. Someone who clicks with you clicks and won’t care what titles you want to use._

Stiles feels warmer after that.

Stiles still gets inundated with messages, but he doesn’t respond to any of them. Whenever his phone pings and it’s some random asshole asking what his favorite position is, he gets irrationally annoyed. Eventually he starts blocking them all out of sheer spite.

It’s two weeks into talking to GrayWolf when Stiles messages him about his dad.

To: GrayWolf42  
So. It’s my birthday tomorrow.

_From: GrayWolf42  
Am I wrong in thinking that you don’t seem thrilled about that?_

To: GrayWolf42  
My dad forgot.  
He forgot once when I was a kid, so every year I kind of mention it a week or so in advance to make him remember.  
Well, I didn’t this year.

_From: GrayWolf42  
And he didn’t remember._

To: GrayWolf42  
Bingo.

_From: GrayWolf42  
I’m sorry, SS._

To: GrayWolf42  
It’s how it goes since my mom died.  
Dad drank, forgot he had a kid.  
By the time he pulls himself out of it, I didn’t need him anymore.

_From: GrayWolf42  
That’s not fair to you at all._

To: GrayWolf42  
It’s like since I’m off at college, he forgets he has a kid. He answers when I call and sometimes he’ll text, but most of the time it’s me having to initiate it. And I just…don’t a lot of the time. Then when we do talk it’s, well, why don’t you have your major picked out? History? That’s a useless degree. Like seriously, what did I do to make him forget he has a kid?

Stiles stares at his phone, suddenly feeling immensely foolish. Why had he said all that to GrayWolf? Why had he dumped this on him? Because Scott already knows and is probably tired of hearing about it? He doesn’t really _know_ GrayWolf, does he? Why the hell would he want to hear about this? He’s about to message and say never mind, please ignore, when his phone pings.

_From: GrayWolf42  
Listen to me. There is nothing you could have done. The way you are treated is not your fault. I can’t express to you how angry it makes me feel that you were neglected like that. And before you say anything, it is neglect to drink away your son’s childhood. And I am so sorry you had to live with that, but nothing was your fault. Okay?_

Stiles swallows hard. Scott is always good at commiserating, at telling him that everything will be okay. No one has ever told him before that it isn’t his fault.

To: GrayWolf42  
Thank you.

_From: GrayWolf42  
You’re welcome, little one. I’m sorry I can’t do more to help._

To: GrayWolf42  
My name is Stiles. It seems silly to go by SS when you're getting a deep and personal look at me.

_From: GrayWolf42  
Hello, Stiles. My name is Peter._

Peter, Stiles thinks, looking at the man’s picture. It fits.

Peter’s the one to give Stiles his number a week later, and they switch to texts. It feels important, to finally have not only GrayWolf’s name, but his number, too.

To: Peter  
In 1912, a Parisian orphanage held a raffle and the prizes were babies. Like, real, alive babies, dude.

_From: Peter  
Don’t call me dude. And really?_

To: Peter  
Yes DUDE, really.

_From: Peter  
I can honestly tell you that I don’t know what to say to that._

To: Peter  
YOU?!!

_From: Peter  
Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle a jabbermouth?_

To: Peter  
Excuse you, I am talkative

_From: Peter  
Mmhmm._

To: Peter  
My dad texted me today

_From: Peter  
Oh?_

To: Peter  
Yeah. He apologized for forgetting my birthday, they had some big murder case.

To: Peter  
He’s the sheriff, by the way, if that wasn’t clear

_From: Peter  
Not a justifiable excuse. What’d you say?_

To: Peter  
I just said thanks. I mean, what do you say to that?

_From: Peter  
Nothing polite, if it were me._

To: Peter  
Yeah, but are you ever polite?

_From: Peter  
Excuse you, I am a wonderfully charming individual._

To: Peter  
Uh huh

The problem is, that’s true. Peter is charming. And funny, and smart, and fuck, Stiles has the biggest crush on him. And it’s not fair because Peter is completely out of Stiles’ league, so much that it isn’t even funny. Not only is he a decade older than him, but he’s hotter than the fucking sun. And no matter how ‘aesthetically pleasing’ Peter finds him, he just can’t compete with that.

Stiles goes to bed that night decidedly grumpy.

-

Stiles is lying in bed on a Saturday, completely bored. His homework is done, he doesn’t have to work today, and Scott just canceled their video game date for more time with Allison. He rolls his eyes and picks up his phone. Fine.

To: Peter  
Paddle or flogger?

_From: Peter  
Pardon?_

To: Peter Hale  
Which do you prefer? Paddle or flogger?

_From: Peter  
I prefer the flogger myself. It leaves such beautiful marks._

To: Peter  
Me too. I like that the impact is so spread out.

_From: Peter  
Have you used a silicone paddle?_

To: Peter  
No, why?

_From: Peter  
You’re missing out. It has a very sharp, radiating pain. _

Stiles has to adjust himself in his pants a bit, and feels badly about it. Peter isn’t trying to turn him on, he reminds himself. It’s impolite to get a boner over it.

To: Peter  
I’ll have to look into one. The only paddle I have is a cheap little beginner’s one, so the handle is all bent and janky

_From: Peter  
They’re expensive, but I highly recommend it. _

To: Peter  
My favorite after the flogger is the crop

_From: Peter  
Why’s that?_

To: Peter  
Caitlin would hit me with a crop then drag a feather over it right after. It wasn’t soothing exactly, but it gave this really pleasant tingling feeling. I can’t describe it.

_From: Peter  
Hmm, interesting. I can honestly say I’ve never tried that. I’ll have to do that soon._

Stiles’ heart sinks. _Soon_ , Peter had said. Does that mean he has a partner? His profile had said single, but maybe he’s thinking about getting together with someone? Stiles groans, his erection having completely flagged.

To: Peter  
Let me know how you like it

Stiles buries his head in his pillow and screams out his stupid, ridiculous crush.

-

Stiles starts reading his messages from Whiplr again. He figures if Peter has his eye on someone, Stiles might as well at least look and see what’s out there. The results are just as dismal as before. Men demanding to be called Sir, a few who apparently can’t read and ask him to dom them, and a woman practically old enough to be his grandmother asking for nudes. Then, he gets one he wasn’t expecting

_From: RealBatman995  
If I pay you 10$ a session, 100$ a week, would you strip online for me for my eyes only? I think your hot. We could do it via facetime so it can’t be recorded. And I could PayPal you the money. I’m sorry if my offer is crass, but you’re enchantingly beautiful so I have to at least try._

Stiles stares for a moment, stunned, before he screen shots it and immediately opens a message to Peter.

To: Peter  
PETER. Peter Peter Peter Peter

_From: Peter  
Yes, Stiles?_

To: Peter  
You’ll never guess the message I just got.

Stiles attaches the screen shot and waits. It takes Peter almost ten minutes to respond.

_From: Peter  
Well, I think a measly $10 per session is insulting, but I can't deny that the idea of watching you is quite tantalizing._

Stiles’ entire world freezes. Does this mean Peter’s sexually attracted to him? And if he does, does that mean that he feels the emotion connection because holy god, Stiles’ crush is dangerously careening out of control. Before Stiles can think of what to even ask, Peter messages Stiles again.

_From: Peter  
Would you like to get lunch tomorrow? There’s a cute café that I think you’ll enjoy._

Stiles is thrown for a second. Like a date? He wants to ask, and is about to, but he chickens out at the last second. He wants to meet Peter, badly, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to face him if he asks and gets told no.

To: Peter  
Yeah, that’d be great. What time?

_From: Peter  
I’ll meet you there at one, if that works with you. I’ll text you the address._

To: Peter  
Yeah dude, I can’t wait

Stiles may hyperventilate. He’s meeting Peter tomorrow. In less than twenty-four hours, he’s meeting Peter face-to-face. Oh god, he doesn’t know what to wear. What if Peter is actually an old, smelly man? No, no they’ve traded ridiculous selfies, Peter was even wearing a wolf hat once. And even if Peter isn’t really Peter, he’ll be in a crowded café and can easily run away. His dad would kill him if he knew he was meeting a stranger from a kink messenger.

-

Stiles changes his clothes at least five times before just calling Lydia.

“Lydia, I have literally no time to explain because I am going to be so late, but if you were me and you were going on a maybe-date with a hot guy, what would you/me wear?”

There’s silence on the end of the line before Lydia says, “You better call me the instant this maybe-date is over,” she says threateningly.

“Cross my heart,” Stiles says. “Please, help me.”

“Wear the jeans I bought you for your birthday, they make your ass long phenomenal. And wear that black t-shirt that used to be Scott’s. It shows off your build,” Lydia says.

“I don’t have a build, I’m skinny,” Stiles says.

“Shut up,” Lydia says. “You have great shoulders and a trim waist. You’re lithe, accept it and love it. Now hurry up and don’t forget to comb your hair.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stiles says. “Thanks again!”

“I expect a call tonight!”

“You’ll get one, I promise. Bye!”

Stiles rushes to change and get out the door because wow, what a bad impression to leave if he's late to their almost-maybe-date. Stiles manages to get there ten minutes early and after a glance around, he doesn't see Peter anywhere. He gets in line and buys a latte, not sure if his nervous stomach can handle real food. 

There's a small table near the back of the cafe that Stiles sits at, giving him a good look at the door. Every time the bell rings Stiles looks up, and each time it isn't Peter. There are still five minutes until he's supposed to be here, but Stiles can't help but wondering, what if he isn't coming? What if he changed his mind? What if, what if, what if? 

Then, at two minutes til 1:00, Peter walks in and holy mama, he's hot in pictures but damn, he's even sexier in real life. Stiles ogles for a minute before Peter caches his eye with a smirk. Stiles blushes bright red, but answers Peter's wave with a wave of his own. Peter orders his drink before weaving his way through the tables to Stiles. Before Stiles can stand and decide do I shake hands? Hug? What's the protocol here? Peter takes a seat opposite from him.

"Hello, Stiles," Peter purrs and oh, that's a beautiful voice. Why haven't they been talking on the phone all this time? 

"Hi," Stiles says. "Wow, nice to meet you in real life."

"And you, too," Peter says. "You're even more beautiful in person. Your pictures don't do you justice."

"Dude, have you _seen_ yourself? Are you sure you're an architect and not a model?" Stiles asks.

Peter preens slightly, which Stiles absolutely shouldn't find adorable.

"I did some modeling in college, actually," Peter says and Stiles makes a mental note to track that down as soon as he gets home. "But no, I'm definitely an architect. I have to say, you're wearing a lot less plaid than I was expecting based on what you've told me."

"Oh, uh, well I kind of called my friend Lydia and asked her what I should wear," Stiles says, blushing deeply. "Or else I'd be here in plaid and a Batman shirt."

"Either way, you'd look wonderful, but you look positively delicious in that," Peter says, eyeing Stiles appreciatively.

Stiles plans to float it easier, but with what Peter's saying, he just blurts out "Were you serious about the stripping thing?" 

"Yes," Peter says simply, not looking at all surprised by the change in topic. 

"Does that mean you're attracted to me?" 

"Yes."

"Sexually?" Stiles asks because damn, he needs to be sure.

"Yes." 

"So, emotionally, too?" 

"Yes, Stiles, that's how me being demisexual works," Peter says, looking decidedly amused. "Is this a difficult concept? I was under the impression that you're quite smart."

"I just want to be sure, dude," Stiles says. "You're like, miles out of my league."

"First of all, leagues aren't real. It's something made up by pretentious people to make others feel bad about themselves," Peter says. He reaches across the able and covers Stiles' fidgeting hand with his own. "Secondly, I am very attracted to you. And if anyone is going to pay to watch you strip, I'd like it to be me.

"Oh," Stiles says, shivering slightly at the deep tone Peter's voice has taken. "Is this a kind of sugar daddy thing?" 

"It doesn't have to be if that makes you uncomfortable, but it's something I'd enjoy. I like you, Stiles. I like the idea of taking care of you, even if our schedules and distance mean I can't physically be there all the time," Peter says.

"And...do you want to be called Daddy?" Stiles asks.

"Only if you want to call me that. Nothing we do will be something you don't want," Peter says.

"Want if I want it?" Stiles says quietly. He's never admitted that to anyone before, but the idea of calling Peter Daddy...

"Then feel free to call me Daddy, baby boy," Peter says, smiling slightly at how Stiles licks his lips.

"I just need to be sure...Is this whole thing just sexual or...?" 

"I don't do just sexual, Stiles. I want the emotional partnership with you as well. If we do this, we do this exclusively. You are mine and I am yours," Peter says. "I'd like to date you."

"Yeah, I'd like that, a lot," Stiles says. "I've had the most ridiculous crush on you but didn't want to say anything and make you uncomfortable."

"That's sweet of you, but you don't make me uncomfortable," Peter says, squeezing Stiles' hand before letting go to pick up his drink. 

"So, you want me to be your personal camboy?" Stiles asks.

"Something like that," Peter says with a smirk. "I'm thinking $100 per session, and - "

"$100?" Stiles asks incredulously. "That other guy offered me $10."

"And he was a moron, obviously," Peter says. "You're worth much more than that."

Stiles takes a big gulp of his cooling drink and lets that process for a moment.

"Okay," Stiles says. "I can do that. Do you want me to do anything else, or...?"

"Let's just start with you stripping, I don't want to push you into too much too fast," Peter says. "Tomorrow night at 8:00 pm?"

"I can do that," Stiles says. 

He never really thought about stripping in front of someone, but now that he's considering it, and considering it for Peter, who can't hide how hungry he is for it, is making Stiles' blood hot. Peter smiles wickedly, like he knows exactly what Stiles is thinking.

It's a date, Stiles thinks as he and Peter talk. He's on a date with Peter, one of the most sarcastic and gorgeous people he's ever met. He catches a girl eyeing Peter hungrily and takes savage pleasure in the fact that Peter doesn't even glance at her. 

They only leave hours later because the cafe is closing. They're in the parking lot by Peter's car, and Peter steps close to Stiles, their faces inches apart. Stiles has time to move away, but he doesn't want to. Peter leans in close, his breath ghosting over Stiles' lips, before leaning in to kiss him. The kiss is a soft, sweet first kiss, but it zings through Stiles like no other kiss ever has. He thinks he understands what Erica meant when she said there's a difference between being kissed and being _kissed_.

Peter pulls back, looking just as affected as Stiles is, which makes Stiles grin.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, little one," Peter says.

"See you," Stiles says, smiling. 

Peter kisses him one more time before turning to get in his car. Stiles waves as Peter pulls out, a huge grin on his face before climbing into his jeep and making his way home.

He waits until he's home and his happy butterflies have calmed down to call Lydia, though he knows his stupid grin hasn't really gone away. He's really glad that Erica spends most of her time at Boyd's so she isn't here to witness this.

 _"How'd it go?"_ Lydia asks, not bothering with a hello.

"Brilliantly," Stiles says. "It was a date! We are dating, we are going to engage in romantic things on multiple dates."

_"Congratulations, Stiles! Now tell me about him! Where did you meet?"_

Now this is the hard part. Stiles loves Lydia and trusts her, but his kinky stuff? That's his business.

"We met online," Stiles says carefully. "He's in his thirties, ridiculously hot, Lydia. Like, I might die. Hold on, let me send you a picture of him."

Stiles puts his phone on speaker so he can text Lydia the most recent picture Peter had sent him.

 _"Oh wow, you aren't kidding,"_ Lydia says. _"He's delicious."_

"Right? I have no words. He lives like fifty miles away, so we're really only getting to see each other on weekends probably, but we're Skyping tomorrow night," Stiles says, which isn't exactly a lie.

 _"The real question is, will he treat you well?"_ Lydia asks.

Stiles smiles.

"Yeah, yeah I think he will."

-

Stiles is nervous the whole next day. Erica stops home for a bit to say hi and he tells her about Peter. She screeches like the brakes of his jeep.

"The hot guy you met on Whiplr? Oh my god, why didn't you say anything?" she asks.

"I left you a note in case I got murdered, but you didn't see it since you've basically been at Boyd's for the last six months," Stiles points out.

"Oh, well, yeah, that's fair," Erica says. "Did you guys discuss kinks? You did!" Stiles' blush apparently answered for him. "Spill!"

"Well, some guy offered to pay me to strip for him online," Stiles says. Erica cackles. "And I told Peter. He said he'd pay me more."

"Go Stiles!" Erica says. "When?"

"Tonight," Stiles says. "Oh my god Erica, I've never done this before, what if I look like an idiot? Do I play music? Jesus Christ he's going to laugh so hard at me."

"Don't be stupid, he likes you," Erica says. "No matter what you do, he'll find it endearing. And I wouldn't have music on if I were you, it's just distracting."

"Have you done this before?" Stiles asks suspiciously. 

"Dude, all the time. When Boyd was still across the state we had Skype sex all the time," Erica says. "What, you thought I just liked hanging out in my room?"

"Yes! Wow, things are making a lot more sense," Stiles says. Erica just grins. "So...are you going to be home tonight?"

"I have to work tonight. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time alone," she says with a wink. "Don't wear plaid."

Stiles is nervous all day. He cleans the shit out of his room, not wanting it to be trashed for the first time Peter sees it. Then, because he's already started, he cleans the rest of the apartment. Cleaning therapy, Stiles swears by it. Soon enough, it's 7:50 and Stiles perches his laptop on his desk.

"Okay, you can do this, you can do this," Stiles mutters under his breath. It's not that he doesn't want to, because he absolutely does, but he's nervous. He's never really done anything like this before besides that time as a joke at Scott's birthday. 

"Don't be clinical," Erica had said. "You have a great body, this is to show it off. Go slow, remember, you're teasing him. Reveal things slowly."

Slowly, Stiles thinks. He can do that. 

At exactly 8:00, the Skype alert sounds from his laptop. Stiles answers, already grinning.

"Hey," he says. 

Peter's smiling at him and Stiles feels some of his nerves melt away. 

_"Hello, Stiles,"_ Peter says. _"You're looking lovely."_

Stiles blushes. "Thank you," he says. 

_"Are you all right, little one?"_ Peter asks. _"You look anxious."_

"I'm good," Stiles says. "Just nervous."

 _"We do nothing you don't want to do,"_ Peter reminds him. 

"I want to," Stiles says. "I really do...Daddy."

 _"Good boy,"_ Peter praises him, making Stiles blush. _"Want to get started for me?"_

"Okay, Daddy," Stiles says.

It's extremely intimate, having Peter's eyes on him like this. He's glad Erica told him not to use music, or this could be really awkward. Stiles stands and turns in a slow circle, not missing how Peter's eyes trail over him. He stretches, reaching over his head, exposing the skin of his belly to Peter's heavy gaze. Ever so slowly, Stiles reaches down and rubs his hands up the skin of his torso, rucking his shirt up as he goes. Peter's eyes are hungry as he watches Stiles pull the shirt over his head and drop it to the side. 

Stiles doesn't move on to his pants right away, instead follows Erica's instructions and caresses his skin, running hands down his chest, brushing over his hard nipples. He undoes his belt, unhurriedly pulling it from his belt loops. He loops it over his hands a few times before tossing it aside and resting his hands on the waistband of his jeans.

Peter’s looking at him like he wants to devour him whole and it makes Stiles bolder, brushing a hand over the front of his jeans where he’s half-hard just from Peter watching him. Peter groans, making Stiles smirk. He toys with the waistband before flicking open a button and dipping a hand inside, rearranging his hardening cock. Peter licks his lips in hunger.

 _“Stiles,”_ Peter breathes.

“Daddy,” Stiles says, his voice more breathy than he’d thought it’d be.

Stiles leisurely unzips his jeans, tugging them down his hips and revealing his black boxer briefs. There’s a small wet spot on the front that normally would make Stiles blush, but there’s nothing but hunger in Peter’s eyes. He pushes his jeans past his thighs, letting gravity pull them to the floor.

Suddenly he’s in nothing but his underwear on Skype for his older boyfriend, the man that’s about to see Stiles naked for the first time. Stiles shivers in anticipation and runs his hands down his chest, brushing his nipples again, making his way down his toned stomach to catch on his boxer briefs. Stiles spins in a circle, looking over his shoulder at Peter’s face on the screen. Stiles tugs the back of his underwear down, tucking the waistband under his ass.

 _“So beautiful, darling,”_ Peter says, eyes on Stiles’ smooth ass. _“So perfect for me.”_

“Want you, Daddy,” Stiles says.

 _“Soon, baby,”_ Peter says. _“You’ll see me soon. I’ll be up next weekend, remember?”_

Stiles turns back around and slowly pulls his boxer briefs down over his hard cock. Peter’s breath audibly hitches and Stiles has never felt so sexy in his entire life. The way Peter watches him, like he’s the only thing in the world, is a heady thing and Stiles feels bold. He runs a hand down his cock before tugging his underwear the rest of the way down, dropping them to the floor. He does a small spin, showing his nude body to Peter.

“How was that?” Stiles asks breathlessly. In the back of his mind, he thinks he should be embarrassed and want to cover himself, but he’s completely happy to have Peter’s eyes sliding over his body like this.

 _“Perfect, darling,”_ Peter says, smiling at him. _“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”_

“Positive,” Stiles says.

 _“Well then you’re quite the natural,”_ Peter says. He leans forward and types something out, before leaning back. _“Money has been transferred to your PayPal account.”_

“Thank you, Daddy,” Stiles says.

 _“You’re welcome, darling,”_ Peter says. _“You’ve definitely earned it.”_

There’s a ringing and Peter sighs deeply.

“Something wrong?” Stiles asks.

Peter glances down at his phone and rolls his eyes. _“My partner at my firm. We have a project coming up and no matter how many times I send him designs, he has something to nitpick. Last time I sent him the same design twice and he said he loved all the changes I made,”_ Peter says.

Stiles snorts.

“So I guess you need to get that?” Stiles says.

 _“No,”_ Peter says, putting the phone on mute and setting it aside. _“I would much rather talk to you.”_

Something flutters in Stiles’ chest at that. He grabs his laptop and sits back on his bed, completely uncaring of his nudity. They talk for the next hour until Peter’s finally admits defeat to his partner’s incessant calling.

 _“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, darling,”_ Peter says. _“Have a good night, sleep well.”_

“Goodnight, Peter,” Stiles says.

Stiles is still worked up from talking to Peter, a mixture of turned on and pure, cheesy happiness. He lazily strokes his cock until he comes, images of Peter in his head, before putting on his bathrobe and venturing out of his room. Erica is just walking in the door when Stiles exits the bathroom. She grins widely, seeing him in his bathrobe.

“Details!” she says immediately. “How’d go?”

“Really well,” Stiles says, grinning. “He loved it.”

“Yeah, awesome! I’ve seen you dancing, I know you know how to move those hips,” Erica says. “Well damn, living the dream. Good for you!”

Stiles can’t stop the happy butterflies in his stomach all night. He checks his email before he goes to bed and sees that instead of $100, Peter transferred him $150.

To: Peter  
That’s a bit more than we agreed on

_From: Peter  
Consider it a tip._

To: Peter  
You’re a menace, you know. You didn’t have to do that.

_From: Peter  
I know, but I wanted to._

To: Peter  
Siiigh, I suppose that’s okay then. Thank you.

_From: Peter  
You’re welcome, little one._

-

The fact that it’s only Monday is killing Stiles. He gets to see Peter on Saturday but that just seems so far away. The day is absolutely crawling and if that’s an indicator of how his week is going to go, he’s so fucked. He texts Peter throughout the day, though Peter gives him shit for not paying attention in class. Stiles doesn’t care, he’d gotten bored and read ahead in all of his classes one weekend anyway.

Monday bleeds slowly into Tuesday, which crawls into Wednesday. The only thing different about Thursday is he has a meeting with his academic advisor, who all but laughs him out of her office. He’s so cranky after that he completely skips his last class of the day and goes straight home. Erica is still in class so he has the place to himself, which is good because he’s never been good at dealing with other people when he’s in a bad mood.

Stiles kicks the door closed behind him and drops to onto the couch, groaning loudly. He lies there, facedown, for a long time, until he finally sits up, figuring he might as well get something to eat. And by ‘something to eat’, he means ramen. He’s waiting for the water to boil then pauses for a second before pulling out his phone. Really, the only person he feels like talking to is Peter.

To: Peter  
So, I decided on doing a double major. My advisor was a bitch about it.

Peter responds almost right away.

_From: Peter  
Congratulations on finding a major. What did they say?_

To: Peter  
Thanks, that’s what someone is SUPPOSED to say. She basically laughed and said I’m not the kind of person who can handle a double major and encouraged me to do something else. I told her no, this is what I’m doing. Basically told her to go fuck herself (politely!)

_From: Peter_  
Well, as long as it was politely.  
Stiles, you’re more than capable. I won’t lie to you, it will be difficult and you’ll probably want to pull your hair out at times, but if it’s what you want to do, then do it.  


To: Peter  
You are much more helpful than my advisor

_From: Peter  
I did a double major. French and architecture._

To: Peter  
Those are two very different things

_From: Peter  
What are yours?_

To: Peter  
History and mythology. I know, I know, they’re useless degree, I get it, okay?

_From: Peter  
I wasn’t going to say that at all. If that’s what you love, do it._

To: Peter  
You aren’t going to tell me to choose a major that will help me get a good job? Like computer programming or something?

_From: Peter  
Not at all. Most people don’t even get jobs in their fields. It’s your degree, it’s your student loans paying for it. Make sure it’s something you want._

To: Peter  
I’m going to kiss the shit out of you when I see you

_From: Peter  
I can’t wait, darling_

To: Peter  
Me neither

Stiles feels better as he eats his ramen and keeps texting Peter. But still, fuck Mrs. Ross.

-

Peter comes up early in the day, saying he wants to spend as much time with Stiles as possible. Stiles isn't going to say no. It's like Peter is trying to jam as much as he can into one day. He and Stiles see a movie, then go to lunch, and explore the city. 

Stiles had been kind of worried that Peter wouldn't want to be seen with him, maybe the age difference would be too much in public, but Peter takes his hand when they're walking, proudly kisses him. Stiles melts a little bit. Peter, of course, pays for everything. Stiles tells him he doesn't have to, but Peter reminds him that he wants to. 

"I enjoy taking care of you, darling. Let me?"

"Okay," Stiles says. He doesn't quite get it, but he gets that Peter likes it and that's what matter.

Stiles is a little embarrassed to bring Peter back to his apartment. He's a college student and he lives like it. None of his furniture matches, his dishes are chipped, and his silverware is bent at strange angles. He and Erica haven't really bothered decorating beyond a few posters on the walls. It's probably a far cry from what Peter's used to, if what Stiles has seen over Skype is any indication of how Peter lives. 

Peter doesn't seem to care at all though, or if he does, he doesn't show it. He takes the tour of Stiles' small apartment, which once again is empty of Erica, until they get to Stiles' room. It's clean again only because he had known Peter would be here and he wants to make a good impression. Peter glances at the laptop and smiles slightly. Stiles is pretty sure he's remembering watching Stiles strip for him and Stiles fights off his blush. 

"Blushing?" Peter asks, stepping closer. "Why could that be?"

"No reason," Stiles says quickly.

"Oh no?" Peter asks. "It couldn't have anything to do with how last week I watched your sexy body as you've stripped for me?" Stiles blush deepens. "Why don't I tell you what's on my mind then?"

"Go ahead," Stiles says, fighting to keep his voice from cracking.

"All right, little one. I'm thinking about finally being able to touch this beautiful body of yours," Peter says, stepping closer. "I'm thinking about how wonderful you'll look spread out under me." Peter brushes his fingers across Stiles' cheek. "And I'm thinking about how wonder you'll feel around me as I fuck your pretty little ass."

Stiles' mouth is completely dry. He'd already been half-hard and now his erection is pressing uncomfortably against the front of his pants.

"Please, Daddy," Stiles whispers.

"All you had to do was ask, baby," Peter says. 

Peter closes the distance between them and kisses Stiles. This isn't soft, like their first kisses, or full of excitement like when he'd finally seen Peter today. This is animalistic and claiming. This is full of intent. Peter presses Stiles back until he's falling back onto the bed. Peter's on him in an instant, kissing down his throat, nipping and sucking what are sure to be bruises. Clothes come off of both of them quickly, both needing to feel the skin of the other. 

"I want to take my time with you," Peter says, kissing down Stiles' stomach. "I want to open you up slowly, split you open on my cock. But it's so hard not to just flip you over and take you now, especially after watching you cam for me."

"Then do it, Daddy," Stiles says. 

"You deserve better, baby," Peter says. "Where's your lube?"

Stiles fumbles in nightstand drawer and comes back with a half-full bottle. Peter raises his eyebrows.

"Play with yourself a lot, do you?" Peter asks.

"I've been very single and very curious for a long time, so sue me," Stiles says.

Peter just laughs softly and pours some lube on his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up. 

"Spread your legs for me," Peter murmurs. 

Stiles does, parting his thighs. Peter hums and slowly circles his hole with a slick finger before sinking it in. It goes in easily, thanks to Stiles' habit of fingering himself, so Peter adds a second, slowly stretching Stiles open. By the time he gets to three, Stiles is clutching at Peter's arms, moaning shamelessly as the man unerringly presses against his prostate. His cock is hard and leaking against his stomach just from having Peter's thick fingers in him.

"I'm ready," Stiles says. "Come on, please Daddy."

Peter groans and slicks up his cock. It's thicker than Peter's three fingers, thicker than the toys Stiles uses and he can't wait to feel it. He tilts his hips up, legs spread wide invitingly. 

"You don't know what you do to me, little one," Peter says, positioning himself between Stiles' legs. He notches the head of his cock at Stiles' hole pressing a bit, but not enough to breach him. "You have no idea how gorgeous you are, how much I want you."

Stiles doesn't know what to say to that, but Peter doesn't seem to be need an answer. Ever so slowly, he presses in, his thick cock sliding deep into Stiles. Stiles cries out at the stretch, nails digging into Peter's forearms.

"That's it, bear down for me baby, does it hurt?" Peter asks, out of breath.

"No," Stiles says. "It's just a lot."

"I know, but you're taking me so well. I knew you would, you're just perfect for me," Peter says. "Are you ready for me to move?"

"Yeah," Stiles breathes. "Fuck me, Daddy."

Peter pulls out just enough to thrust back into Stiles, making him see stars. Peter's dick drags against Stiles' prostate with nearly every thrust and fuck, Stiles has gone to heaven. He wants to close his eyes and let the pleasure wash over him, but he wants to watch Peter, he wants to see his face screwed up in concentration, the way his brow twitches when Stiles tightens up around him. He wants to see Peter's face when he inevitably comes.

Stiles undulates his hips into Peter's thrusts, taking him in even deeper and drawing a low growl from Peter. Peter drapes his body over Stiles, their faces merely inches from each other, and he grinds his hips in a circle, drawing high-pitched whimpers from Stiles.

Stiles has had sex before, but this is different. This is slow and nasty. Their sweaty bodies sliding together as Peter's cock drags inside of Stiles. It's the king of toe-curling sex that makes you whimper and clutch at your partner, desperate for more. 

Peter plays Stiles' body like a fiddle, like he knows how to unlock every moan and touch every spot that makes Stiles keen. Peter is drawing the pleasure from Stiles with thrusts and touches and caresses. They share soft kisses, just staring at each other until Stiles starts to tense up, feeling his orgasm coming on. 

"I'm gonna come, Daddy," Stiles whispers, afraid to talk too loudly and break the spell they're under.

"So am I," Peter admits and that sends a thrill through Stiles. _He_ did that to Peter. Peter reaches a hand between them, stroking down Stiles' leaking cock. "Go ahead and come for me, Stiles."

Stiles whimpers and thrusts his hips up, coming all over Peter's fist. His hole spasms around Peter, making the other man moan and fuck into him faster. It's only a few more seconds until with a loud groan, Peter stills, coming deep inside of Stiles.

Peter collapses and drops his forehead to Stiles', breathing harshly. Stiles wraps his arms around Peter's neck, perfectly content to have Peter's weight on him. Peter nudges his nose against Stiles' before kissing him deeply.

"Hello, little one," Peter murmurs.

"Hello, Daddy," Stiles says.

"Sore at all? Any pain?" Peter asks tracing a finger around Stiles' rim, where his softening cock is still keeping him open.

"No, I'm good," Stiles says.

"Mm, good," Peter says, nuzzling at Stiles' temple.

The lie there for a long time, just wrapped around each other, until Stiles' stomach rumbles, making Peter chuckle.

"Hungry?"

"No," Stiles lies. His stomach growls again. "Okay, maybe, but I'd much rather be here."

"So would I, but we need to get dinner," Peter says.

Stiles pouts but lets Peter pull him up. 

"Fiiine, we'll get dinner like responsible adults," Stiles says. "If we must."

"Don't worry, we can come right back here after," Peter says with a wink.

God, Peter's great.

-

Stiles' next cam session with Peter is Tuesday and he wants to give Peter a bit of a surprise. His Whiplr profile had said he likes men in lingerie, so Stiles had ordered a pair of royal purple lace panties. Stiles dresses like he normally does, basic jeans and a t-shirt, and sits on his bed, waiting patiently for Peter to call him. His laptop pings and he answers the Sykpe call with a grin.

"Hey, Daddy," Stiles greets.

 _"Hello, baby,"_ Peter says. _"Are you ready?"_

Stiles nods and sits up straighter. His shirt is the first to go, pulling it slowly over his head and dropping it to the side. He takes some time to run his hands over his body, playing with his nipples and raising goosebumps on his smooth skin. He's more comfortable than his first time doing this, more at ease with himself and with his body. He doesn't need to check that Peter is watching or liking what he sees; he knows that he is. 

Stiles stands and, tantalizingly slowly, undoes his jeans, popping the button and easing the zipper down. It's the moment of truth, time to see what Peter thinks. Stiles looks up, making eye contact with Peter, and drags him jeans down his thighs, letting them pool on the floor. Peter's eyes widen and his breath hitches at the sight of Stiles in nothing but royal purple lace. 

The panties hug his body well, sheer enough that they show the outline of Stiles' half-hard cock. Stiles kneels on the bed, ass facing Peter and sticks his butt out, showing off how the lace caresses him. He slides the waistband down, exposing his ass to Peter, before pulling them back up and turning around. He spreads his legs wide, shows off the front of the panties, complete with a little bow in the middle. Peter growls through Skype. 

Stiles smirks and eases them down in front, hooking the elastic waistband under his balls, framing his erection. Peter's hand in reaching into his pants on the screen and that makes Stiles even harder. He wants to touch himself, to play with himself for Peter, but that's for another day. Right now, he wants to watch Peter lose it to the sight of him stripping.

 _"Leave them on,"_ Peter says when Stiles makes to pull the panties off. _"I want - leave them on."_

"Yes, Daddy," Stiles says. 

Stiles pulls the panties all the way up, over his hard cock, and runs his hands down his thighs, pulling the panties to the side so Peter can get a glimpse of his hole. Peter groans and his hand moves faster, just out of sight range for Stiles. Stiles wishes he could see, but it's enough that he can see Peter's face, his eyes roaming over Stiles' body, coming to rest on his panty-covered cock more often than not.

"I wish it were you, Daddy," Stiles says, getting to his knees. "I wish it were you touching me, you putting your hands on my ass and my cock. You standing here, fucking my throat."

 _"Stiles!"_ Peter growls. 

Peter's hand stills and Stiles knows that face. Peter comes, head thrown back and teeth bared. Stiles grins, happy to do nothing but watch Peter in bliss. When they hang up, Stiles will take himself in hand and stroke himself until he's spilling over, but right now, this is what he wants, to watch Peter. 

Peter slowly opens his eyes after his hand stills. It takes a moment for him to focus on Stiles, then he's smiling.

 _"That was a lovely surprise, baby,"_ Peter says. _"Did you buy those just me?"_

"Yeah," Stiles says, running his fingers on the lace. "I like them. I might wear them to school one day, see how it goes."

Peter groans. 

_"I can't get hard again quite that fast, little one, but if I could, I assure you, that would get me there,"_ Peter says. Stiles smirks. _"You little shit,"_ Peter says fondly.

"That's me."

-

The first time Stiles visits Peter's house, he's completely blown away. Intellectually, he'd known Peter's loaded (the man gave me a $100 tip after the cam session for wearing panties, okay?), but knowing it and seeing it are two very different things. Peter lives about fifty miles out from Stiles' apartment in a nice, wooded area. There are only two other houses nearby and they're far enough apart that they don't have to hear or see much of each other if they don't want to.

Stiles pulls up around noon on Saturday, slightly nervous. He isn't sure why; Peter's been to his apartment, but this for some reason feels bigger. Maybe it's because Peter's so private about so many things (or so he claims; he's always been very open with Stiles) that it feels important that he's let in here. He doesn't know, but he's nervous.

Once Peter opens the front door, Stiles' heart nearly stops. Usually Peter is very put together, looking like he could walk right off the cover of a fashion magazine, but now he's wearing nothing but a grey v-neck and pair of worn jeans, his bare toes sticking out of the bottom. It's so relaxed and homey that it makes Stiles ache. 

"Hey," Stiles says, walking up to the front porch. He kisses Peter when he's close enough, smiling when the other man hums into the kiss. "You weren't kidding about you being far from the closest store."

"I like my privacy," Peter says with a shrug. "It's nice to be away from humanity sometimes."

"Do I count as humanity?" Stiles teases.

"Absolutely not," Peter says. "You're welcome here anytime. Come on, I'll give you the tour."

The house isn't huge, but it's elegant. It's modernly decorated with a hint of classic architecture that fits Peter perfectly. There are two bedrooms, one master and one guest, though from what Peter says, the guest room is only used occasionally by a niece or nephew when they come to visit. 

The living room is the true feature of the home, according to Peter at least. The entire east wall is floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the forest behind Peter's house. Stiles can see nothing but the yard that backs up into the line of trees. No neighbors, no streets, just green. 

Stiles wants to be fucked against those windows. He thinks about slipping it into conversation subtly, or hinting at it, or letting the subject come up naturally, but at the end of the day, he's still Stiles.

"I want you to fuck me against those windows," Stiles says.

Peter grins absolutely ferally. 

"That can be arranged."

Five minutes later, Stiles is completely naked and pressed against the window, his hard cock trapped between his body and the glass. Peter has three fingers buried in his ass, working him open. Stiles' hot breath is fogging up the glass in front of him but he doesn't care, he doesn't care about anything besides getting Peter inside of him.

"Come on, Peter, fuck me," Stiles says. 

"If you insist," Peter says.

Peter withdraws his fingers with a squelch of lube and a second later, the head of his thick cock is pressed against Stiles' hole. The angle is a bit strange since they're both standing, but after a slight adjustment, Peter is pressing into him. Stiles groans, letting his head fall forward against the glass. The heat from Peter's body juxtaposes with the cool glass, making Stiles shiver.

"You love this, don't you?" Peter murmurs and he fucks into Stiles. "Getting fucked out here. Anyone could walk through the yard and see you."

Stiles whines. He knows it isn't true, that no one is going to walk by, but the _idea_ of it...His cock spurts out a bit of precome. 

"Peter," Stiles whines, pressing back into the thrusts.

"That's it, baby," Peter says. His hands are tight on Stiles' waist, pulling the boy back onto his cock. "Anyone would see how good you are for me. Look at you, taking it so well."

Stiles groans and reaches a hand between his body and the glass, jacking himself slowly. He wants this to last, wants to come when Peter goes, but he's getting close rapidly. He can't help it, not between the filth Peter's muttering in his ear and the hot drag of the cock inside of him. Stiles keens, body tightening up.

"That's it, come on, come for Daddy," Peter says, biting at Stiles' neck.

Stiles shouts, coming over his hand, splattering onto the window. Peter groans and fucks into his spasming hole, chasing his own release. Stiles' come is smeared on the glass but Peter doesn't care, pushes Stiles forward until he's pressed fully against the window.

"Such a good boy," Peter praises, fucking into Stiles harder. "Such a good boy for me, Stiles."

Stiles mewls in response, taking the pounding Peter's giving him. Peter's always pretty vocal, but he can't seem to stop himself, can't stop telling Stiles how good he is, how good he feels around Peter, all the things Peter wants to do to him. He ends up coming deep in Stiles, his teeth buried in the skin of Stiles' shoulder, shaking as he comes.

They fuck two more times, once in the kitchen, and once in Peter's bed before they remember that the need to clean the come from the windows.

-

Between classes and spending as much time with Peter as possible, finals kind of sneak up on Stiles. He's been in college for a couple years (he'd taken time off after high school so at 21, he isn't quite as close to being done as most others his age), so he should be used to it. But nope, all of the sudden finals were around the corner and Stiles is stressing. Stiles apologizes to Peter in advance for not answering texts or calls as well as he should, draws up a study guide for each class, and gets down to it.

The problem is, as well as he is at organizing all his study materials, he's godawful and _keeping_ them organized. Soon, his biology and psychology notes are all mixed up, his English essay is way off track, and his flash cards have somehow ended up under the couch in the living room. He wants to scream. 

Erica is actually home, knowing that if she's with Boyd, she won't be spending her time studying. She has headphones in and is rereading her textbook, mouthing along to the words. It irritates Stiles for some reason that she's able to just read her book and not have to study any further. 

Stiles ends up retreating to his room after a few hours, no longer able to take hearing the muffled music from Erica's headphones. He puts on an ambient noise app and studies to the sound of the Ravenclaw common room. 

He keeps it up for two days. He tries to remember to text Peter but sometimes he forgets he even has a phone, he's that tired and stressed. He's dozing on his biology notes, trying to absorb them through osmosis, when he hears the doorbell ring. He doesn't move. Erica is in the living room and it's probably food that she ordered anyway. The smell of Thai food wafts in and he's annoyed that she ordered with asking him if he wants anything. But then his door is opening. He doesn't bother to open his eyes. If she wants to talk to him, he's right here.

"Oh, darling."

Stiles' eyes shoot open and he sits up quickly, his notes sticking to his face. Standing there with his hands full of takeout is Peter, looking at Stiles with great sympathy.

"Peter," Stiles says. "What are you doing here?"

"Your roommate let me in," Peter says, picking his way through Stiles' messy room (he hasn't bothered to keep up with cleaning it while he studies). "She's...vivacious."

Stiles snorts. "That's a good way to put it," he says. "I'm surprised she let you in without an interrogation."

"She started, but I bribed her with curry," Peter says. "You mentioned red is her favorite."

"I...yeah, I did, like two months ago..." Stiles says.

Peter smiles slightly. 

"Come on out, I'll dish you up some food," Peter says.

"I really appreciate it, but I have to work on this, bio is kicking my ass and - "

"And if I know you, and I do, you haven't eaten today at all. Am I right?" Peter asks. Stiles closes his mouth with a click because he actually has no idea when he ate last. "That's what I thought. I will quiz you after I feed you. Now come on."

Stiles follows Peter out of his room, seeing Erica chowing down her red curry with her book propped open in front of her. Peter just shakes his head and pulls out plates and silverware. It isn't Peter's first time in Stiles' kitchen, not by a long shot, but it still makes something in Stiles flutter at how domestic it is, how good Peter looks like this.

"Pad see ew, fried rice, and fresh rolls," Peter says, putting a plate of food and a glass of water in front of Stiles before he goes back to dish up his own. Peter sits across from Stiles, noticing Stiles watching him. "Eat," Peter says, nudging Stiles' leg with his foot. 

Stiles takes a bite and god, it's good. He hadn't realized how hungry he is until now and he follows Erica's lead, scarfing down his food. Peter looks both amused and disgusted at the same time. Stiles doesn't care, he went to the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant across town and Stiles think he might be in love. 

Stiles chokes on a bite of his fresh roll. Peter looks alarmed and stands to come over and maybe give him the Heimlich, but Stiles waves him off and takes a big gulp of water. Love. He is in love with Peter. Holy shit.

"Are you okay?" Peter asks.

"He chokes on his food at least once a night," Erica pipes in, having looked up with Stiles started coughing. "I keep telling him, remember to chew your food."

"Yeah, thanks for that," Stiles says. Erica raises her fork in cheers before going back to her food and her book.

"Are you okay?" Peter asks again.

"I'm fine," Stiles says. "Just swallowed wrong."

"That's what she said," Erica says. 

Stiles throws his napkin at her.

"That's enough out of you!" 

Peter just rolls his eyes and goes back to his food, smiling fondly. 

Erica thanks Peter again, then sticks her headphones back in and goes back to reading her textbook. Stiles puts Peter and his dishes away and leads Peter back to his bedroom.

"I can't study in the same room as Erica," Stiles says. "Me tapping pens irritates her and her music irritates me."

"Understandable," Peter says. He picks up Stiles' flashcards. "Ready?"

"You're serious," Stiles says. "You're actually going to quiz me."

"Why not?"

"Because you probably have a million better things to do than sit in your college-aged boyfriend's apartment going over flashcards?" Stiles says. 

He's aiming for light, but his insecurities, the 'what if people decides he wants someone his own age' thing, it must poke through. Peter levels him a stern but kind look.

"Stiles," he says firmly. He takes Stiles' hand and presses a kiss to his palm. "The age difference between us is nothing. There's nowhere I'd rather be than by your side."

And fuck, Stiles can't handle that. His emotions are already too close to the surface and then Peter says that...He can feel it coming, like a Mean Girls word vomit...

"I love you," Stiles says quietly. Peter stills. "I love you, Peter. And this is really inconvenient timing because I haven't showered in like three days and I'm in the middle of finals stress so you probably don't believe me and...and you haven't said anything, oh my god, did I just ruin things? Shit, fuck."

Stiles' heart is plummeting because this is ridiculous. Of course Peter doesn't love him, they're not there yet. Aren't they? Stiles kind of had thought they were, but apparently he's wrong...

"Stiles," Peter says and Stiles gets the feeling he's been saying his name for a bit. "Stiles, calm down, sweetheart, I didn't mean to scare you, I was just surprised."

"Yeah, it's a big thing for me to blurt out willy nilly," Stiles says lightly, picking at his nail beds.

"I love you, too, darling," Peter says. Stiles stills. 

"You do?" Stiles asks.

"Of course I do," Peter says. "Did you really think I couldn't?"

"I don't know, maybe?" Stiles says. 

"We really need to work on your self esteem," Peter says. "Only a fool wouldn't love you."

Stiles grins and all but throws himself at Peter, kissing him deeply. He probably tastes like Thai food and smells like sweat but he doesn't care because his boyfriend loves. Peter, smart, gorgeous, unattainable Peter, loves him. 

Peter deepens the kiss and Stiles is ready for Peter to take him right then and there, fuck finals, but then Peter is pulling back with a smirk.

"Now," Peter says, grabbing Stiles' flashcards. "Give me the - "

"You're serious?" Stiles asks.

"I told you I'd quiz you," Peter says. "Now, give me the taxonomic stages." 

-

The great thing about it being Thursday is that his last final is done, he's free! The horrible thing is he's driving home for the winter break and he won't see Peter for two whole weeks. Peter's house is on the way out of town, so he stops to stay there for the night before heading back to Beacon Hills. 

It's really hard to leave Peter's. They stand on his front stoop, wrapped around each other for a long time. Peter kisses the top of her head, his temple, his cheek, his lips. 

"It'll be the new semester before you know it," Peter promises.

Stiles groans.

"I don't want classes to start, but I want to be back with you. Can you see my conundrum?" Stiles asks.

Peter laughs, running a hand down Stiles' spine.

"We'll make it work, love," Peter says. 

Stiles can't help but smiling. It's still new enough that he gets a little thrill when Peter calls him love or tells him he loves him. 

"Okay," Stiles says, reluctantly extracting himself from Peter's arms. "I really should go. I told my dad I'd be home by 5:00."

"Text me when you get there safely," Peter says. 

Stiles leans into Peter and kisses him softly.

"I will. Love you."

"I love you, too," Peter says.

The drive is boring, mostly due to the fact that radio reception is shit for most of the time and Stiles' jeep is old enough not to have a jack that he can plug his phone into to play music. He gets home a little after 5:00, but his dad doesn't seem to mind, just hugs him and says he's glad to see him. There's a college ballgame playing in the living room, but it's on low, just for background noise. 

Stiles is pleasantly surprised that his dad actually cooked dinner. It's chicken and rice, nothing fancy, but it isn't bad, and it's healthy. Stiles doubts this means that he's been sticking to a good diet since Stiles has been gone, but he can dream. Dinner is calm, they chat a bit, then his dad decides to talk about Christmas.

"It turns out I'll have to work Christmas Eve and Day," the sheriff says. 

Stiles pauses, chicken partway to his mouth.

"You what?" Stiles says. "You told me you finally get it off this year."

"Yeah, well, I wanted the deputies to spend time with their families," the sheriff says.

"What about you spending time with _your_ family?" Stiles asks.

"You're welcome to come down to the station with me," the sheriff says. "It's just something I have to do, Stiles."

"It's something you want to do," Stiles says. "I've spent too many holidays in the sheriff's station already, thanks."

"Look, I'm sorry kid," the sheriff says.

"You're really not, or you wouldn't have done it," Stiles says. "Your only kid is back from college but that's fine, volunteer for more work so you don't have to see him."

"That's not true and you know it," the sheriff says.

"Sure," Stiles says. "Whatever."

They finish eating in silence, whatever excitement Stiles had about being home dwindling away. 

He heads to bed earlier, saying he's tired from the drive, but they both know better. Stiles collapses face first into his old bed, the room smelling stale from disuse. Usually, he looks forward to the winter holidays but right now, he wishes he were back at Berkeley, and not just because he misses Peter. 

It turns out the sheriff is working a lot over Stiles' break, so Stiles spends a lot of time playing video games with Scott, meandering around town, and on the phone with Peter. Stiles and Scott go to the annual tree lighting festival and hit a few holiday bazaars, where people give them some strange looks (what, can't two bros go to a Christmas craft festival together?). Stiles buys Peter a packet of smoked salmon and Gouda that a wonderfully cheery old lady is selling. He'd already gotten Peter a Christmas gift, but Peter had mentioned the other day his love of smoked salmon and Stiles just can't resist. 

The sheriff hadn't decorated at all, so Stiles takes charge of getting a tree and dragging the decorations down from the attic. It used to be something he and his mom would do together and after all these years, Stiles thinks it still hurts the sheriff to think about, so Stiles always does it alone. He sends a picture to Peter when he's done, and gets one of Peter's sister's tree in return. While Stiles' tree looks homey with its mismatched ornaments and popcorn strings, the tree Peter sends him completely matches the decor of the room and is covered in elegant red and gold ornaments.

To: Peter  
It looks like a department store tree.

_From: Peter  
It does, doesn't it? She doesn't let any of the kids touch it. They have a second tree in the basement that looks more like yours. She's very into appearances, Talia._

To: Peter  
How's it going over there? No huge family blowouts yet?

_From: Peter_  
We came close when our cousin tried to change the Christmas Eve dinner menu, but we managed to right the ship.  
Everyone is asking about you. 

Stiles' heart nearly thuds to a stop.

To: Peter  
Me? Why?

_From: Peter  
They know I'm seeing someone and won't stop badgering me about it. Not that I mind them knowing, it's just amusing to see how frustrated they get when I hold back information from them._

To: Peter  
You're an absolute menace.  
What do they know about me?

_From: Peter  
Apparently a family friend saw us at the zoo a few weeks ago and told her that I have a younger boyfriend. So I told them you're actually an escort that I pay to date me and do my laundry._

To: Peter  
You did not!

_From: Peter  
I absolutely did. No one believed me, though. They just think I'm robbing the cradle to get my midlife crisis out of the way._

To: Peter  
What'd you tell them?

_From: Peter  
I told them I'm in my thirties, thank you very much._

To: Peter  
I don't know, I think I saw a grey hair the other day.

_From: Peter_  
You bite your tongue.  
No, in all seriousness, I told them I was in a relationship and we appreciate our privacy. 

Stiles can't help grin at that. They haven't really discussed telling their families, mostly because what they have feels so private that it doesn't warrant anyone butting in. And Stiles knows his dad would want to meet Peter, and Peter is pretty sure his family would want to meet Stiles, so they've left it alone until now.

To: Peter  
I probably should tell my dad while I'm here. His son seriously dating someone is something he probably should know

_From: Peter  
It's up to you, love. If you think he would be upset about the age difference, you might want to not do it on Christmas._

To: Peter  
He probably won't be happy, but it could be worse. It could be a twenty year ago difference instead of fifteen.

_From: Peter  
Fourteen!_

To: Peter  
You turn 36 in a month

_From: Peter  
Fourteen and a half then. _

To: Peter  
You're ridiculous. I love you.

_From: Peter_  
I love you, too.  
And between the two of us, you're by far the most ridiculous. 

Stiles snorts. Trust Peter to need to get the last word in. The front door opens and Stiles sends a quick text off to Peter that this dad's home and he'll talk to him later.

"Hey, you're home early," Stiles says, coming down the stairs.

"Yeah, we had enough staff that I figured I'd come and spend some time with you," the sheriff says.

Stiles can tell it's him trying to make up for working on Christmas Eve and Day, but Stiles will take it. They have lunch then see a movie (it's one Stiles has already seen with Peter, but he's fine seeing again, especially if he can spend not stressful time with his dad). It's when they get home and are getting ready to cook dinner that Stiles decides to drop the Peter bomb.

"So, I'm seeing someone," Stiles says casually while he washes the lettuce for the salad.

"Oh? Do they go to your school?" the sheriff asks. He's chopping up tomatoes a few feet away.

"Not exactly," Stiles says.

"What does that mean?" the sheriff asks.

"Okay, not at all," Stiles says. He starts tearing the lettuce, carefully avoiding eye contact. "I met him online."

"Okay," the sheriff says slowly. Stiles is very aware of his dad's stance of meeting people you've met online. "On a dating site?"

"Yeah, something like that," Stiles says, wisely deciding not to tell his dad about Whiplr. "We've been seeing each other basically since the start of classes."

"Oh," the sheriff says. "Well, congratulations. Why are you so nervous about telling me?"

"He might be a little older than me," Stiles says, glancing at his dad out of the corner of his eye.

The sheriff's eyes narrow.

"How much is a little?"

"He's 35," Stiles says and winces when his dad curses and sets down the knife he'd been chopping tomatoes with.

"35, Stiles?" the sheriff says. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"Nope," Stiles says weakly. 

"Damn it, Stiles! You're smarter than this!" the sheriff says. "You're supposed to be studying."

"I am!" Stiles says. "Spending time with Peter hasn't caused my grades to drop at all." Which is true, Stiles is proud to say. His dad doesn't seem to agree.

"And how does Peter feel about dating a kid still in college?" the sheriff asks.

"I'm 21, dad, I'm not a kid. I'm a legal adult who can drink and make their own decisions," Stiles says. 

"Stiles," the sheriff groans, running his hand over his face. "This is a bad idea."

"Then it's my bad idea," Stiles says firmly. "And as my dad, I would hope you respect that."

The sheriff sighs. 

"Fine. I want to meet him," the sheriff says.

"I'm not bringing him down here just for you to tell him you don't want him to date me," Stiles says. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"I wouldn't do that," the sheriff says.

"Really? No stereotypical gun cleaning? No glaring? No comments about how he's not good enough?" Stiles asks. The sheriff glares, but says nothing. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You'll meet him someday."

"So you're planning on this to be long-term?" the sheriff asks.

Stiles pauses, debating how much to tell him dad. He doesn't particularly feel like telling him that he loves Peter, having a feeling that it won't go over well.

"It's going to be long-term," Stiles says. 

The sheriff sighs again and says, "Fine." He goes back to chopping his tomatoes, perhaps a bit more aggressively than before, but he doesn't comment on it again.

Dinner is quiet and strained, the exact opposite of what Stiles had wanted. He wasn't delusional enough to think that his dad would be happy that he's dating an older man, but he still doesn't like the tense silence between them. After twenty minutes of silent chewing, the sheriff puts down his fork and looks at Stiles.

"He treats you well?" the sheriff asks.

"Yeah," Stiles says, smiling slightly. "Yeah, he does."

"Okay," the sheriff says. "Look, I don't like this, kid. But I'm going to trust your judgement."

Stiles wants to snap at him, wants to tell him that he doesn't have to like it, but he takes the olive branch and says, "Okay."

They both head to bed early, the sheriff having to work early and Stiles just too mentally exhausted to stay up. It's only 9:00, so he calls Peter.

 _"Hello, darling,"_ says Peter.

"Hey," Stiles says, something in him unclenching at Peter's voice.

 _"Is everything okay?"_ Peter asks, concern in his voice. 

"Yeah," Stiles says. "I just told my dad about us and it didn't go well."

 _"How so?"_ Peter asks

"He doesn't like the age difference," Stiles says with a sigh. "There were ten years between him and my mom but I didn't really feel like saying that."

 _"I'm sorry, love,"_ Peter says. _"I'm not surprised he isn't thrilled."_

"Me neither," Stiles says. "It's disappointing, though. By the end of dinner he seemed accepting enough. So if you two ever happen to meet, be advised."

 _"When I do meet your father, I'll keep that in mind,"_ Peter says. _"You'll have to deal with Talia incessantly asking you if we're in a real relationship or not, so I think that's fair."_

"She doesn't think we're real?" Stiles asks.

 _"She finds it hard to believe that I'm in a real relationship and must be lying to her about it,"_ Peter says and Stiles can practically see the eye roll.

"Will she need a demonstration of our devotion?" Stiles says, wiggling his eyebrows. Peter laughs.

 _"She just may,"_ Peter says. _"Will you and your father be okay?"_

"Yeah, we'll be fine," Stiles says. "He just needs to get used to the idea."

 _"Good, I - "_ There's a screech down the line, loud enough that Stiles has to pull the phone away from his ear for a second. _"Sorry, that was my niece's daughter. I have to help chase down a wayward toddler."_

Stiles snorts at the image.

"All right, have fun," Stiles says.

 _"I'll call you tomorrow, love,"_ Peter says. _"Have a good night. I love you."_

"I love you, too," Stiles says and hangs up.

He feels better after talking to Peter. His dad will get over it, he knows. He's a dad, the protective streak is real, but he cares about Stiles' happiness. They might have their issues, but at the core, he knows his dad wants him to be happy. He has faith it'll work out.

The next morning, the sheriff has been gone for hours by the time Stiles pulls himself out of bed. Scott is doing Christmas stuff with his mom and girlfriend so Stiles is planning on a lazy day in. He's through half of the Avengers when Peter calls. Stiles grins and pauses the movie to answer.

"Hey there," Stiles says.

 _"Hello, darling,"_ Peter says. _"The terrors have all been taken to see Santa, so I have the place to myself and I must say, I'm enjoying every second of it."_

"Oh, so you're all alone," Stiles says suggestively. "How long?"

 _"For at least another hour,"_ Peter purrs. _"And you, little one? Are you alone?"_

"Yeah, my dad's at work," Stiles says. 

_"Should I tell you how I've been thinking of you then?"_ Peter asks. _"About how much I can't wait to taste you again?"_

Stiles' dick twitches in his sweats. He reaches inside his pants, loosely gripping his cock.

"I have too," Stiles says. "I fingered myself yesterday thinking about you. It wasn't enough, my fingers aren't the same as yours."

 _"Oh did you?"_ Peter asks. _"Did you come?"_

"Yes, Daddy," Stiles says. 

_"And now? Are you touching yourself for me?"_

"Yes, Daddy," Stiles says.

 _"Good boy,"_ Peter praises. _"Tell me what you're doing, baby."_

"Stroking my cock," Stiles says. "Thinking about it being you. About you jacking me off while you fuck me."

Peter groans and Stiles can hear the unzipping of his pants on the end of the line. 

_"Soon, baby,"_ Peter says. _"I'll see you again soon. We'll have all the time in the world. I'll be able to lick you open until you're crying for me. I'll split you open on my cock, fuck you until you're full of me, leaking come out of your pretty little hole."_

"Peter," Stiles whines, his hand moving fast over his leaking erection. "Daddy, I can't wait. I'm so hard whenever I think about you. I miss your cock being in me." 

_"Keep stroking yourself for me,"_ Peter says. He sounds a little out of breath and there's a wet flesh-on-flesh sound that makes Stiles' cock throb. _"I want you to come thinking about me swallowing your cock down. Think about coming down my throat."_

"I'm gonna come," Stiles says. It's embarrassingly fast, but Peter does that to him. Peter's silky voice, imaging his breath ghosting over Stiles' skin, his hands on Stiles' body. 

_"Good,"_ Peter grunts out. _"Come for me, Stiles. Come for Daddy."_

"Daddy!" Stiles whines. 

He spills into his hand, gasping for air. He can hear Peter jacking himself off, the slick sound of his hand moving over his cock. Stiles can imagine it, knows just how Peter likes it. Just how quick and firm to be. Peter gasps out something that sounds a lot like Stiles' name and then there's just harsh panting from both of them for a long time.

"Miss you," Stiles says.

 _"Soon, love,"_ Peter says softly. _"We'll see each other soon."_

Stiles cleans himself up while he talks to Peter. They stay on the phone for over an hour, until with a sigh, Peter tells him that the rest of his family is home and he has to go. It's just as well, Stiles has to finish wrapping his dad's presents. They're doing Christmas early on Christmas Eve morning before the sheriff has to go into work, so Stiles has to go shopping and make sure they have everything they need for breakfast. 

The rest of the break crawls by. Christmas Eve with his dad is actually pretty good considering it's short. His dad doesn't bring up Peter or Stiles' major (which he also disapproves of), instead they have a nice breakfast and Stiles sends his dad out the door with a hug and a 'stay safe'. Stiles spends the rest of the day in his pajamas watching Netflix.

He calls Peter on Christmas Eve and Day, but he can't talk long because he's with his family and can't get a second to himself. Stiles understands, but it doesn't stop him from being lonely. He and Peter decided to do Christmas when Stiles gets back from break, so he at least has that to look forward to.

His dad gets a couple days off before New Year's Eve that they get to spend together, which is nice. The sheriff does try to talk Stiles out of being a history and mythology double major, to which Stiles just pats him on the arm and says, "Oh, daddio, no."

Stiles drives back up to Berkeley the morning of New Year's Eve. Well, to Berkeley he means to Peter's. They couldn't spend Christmas together, so they are making up for it by spending New Year's Eve and Day together. Stiles has Peter's sweater, smoked salmon, and Gouda with him so he can go straight to Peter's instead of stopping off at his apartment. 

As soon as he answers the front door, Peter sweeps him up into a hug, holding him tightly. Stiles drops his bag to the side and sighs, relaxing into the touch, the tension he's been holding draining from him. Peter's peppering kisses to his face and temple until finally they're kissing again. It's only been two weeks but Stiles is so used to Peter's presence in his life that two weeks felt like two months. It's ridiculously codependent but Stiles doesn't care.

"I've missed you," Peter says, nuzzling at Stiles' jaw.

"I've misses you, too," Stiles says. "Can I come in?"

Peter rolls his eyes but steps away from the door. Stiles tries to grab his bag but Peter gets there first, smirking at Stiles' eye roll and following him into the house. Peter already has food in the oven and a fire in the fireplace and Stiles immediately feels more at home than he ever does in his shoe box apartment. 

Peter only has a tree up because Stiles had insisted. Peter and said he was going to be at him sister's house, so what's the point? But Stiles hadn't wanted to hear it, so Peter has a three-foot fake tree covered in twinkling lights and small, red and green ornaments sitting in the corner. There's a single wrapped gift under it with Stiles' name on it. Stiles smiles slight and puts his own gifts for Peter under the tree. 

Peter makes Stiles wait until after they eat (a delicious roast) before opening gifts. Stiles gives Peter his first. Peter instantly opens the smoked salmon and Gouda, munching on it even though they just ate, and pulls on the deep blue v-neck sweater.

"It's perfect," Peter says.

Stiles, still a little struck from watching Peter just casually take his shirt off, nods and says he's glad it works. 

Then it's Stiles' turn. The box is heavy and he Peter won't let him shake it to try and guess what it is. Stiles opens in and his jaw drops.

"You got me a Macbook?!" Stiles says, looking at Peter with wide eyes. "I gave you a shirt, fish, and cheese!"

"All of which I enjoy immensely," Peter says. "Your laptop is giving up on you, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but - "

"And we've established that I like taking care of you, yes?"

"Yeah, but - "

"And you won't let me pay your tuition or rent, both of which I'm more than happy to do," Peter says. "Let me at least do this for you."

"You know I'm not just with you because you buy me things, right?" Stiles asks. "I mean, I love _you_."

Peter's smirk softens to a smile and he kisses Stiles gently. 

"I know that, darling," Peter says. "I love you, too. I love doing things for you."

"Okay," Stiles says softly. He's still a bit in awe. "I - yeah, okay."

"Plus, this one has a better camera so I can see your sweet little ass when you strip for me," Peter says.

Stiles blushes and shoves Peter with his elbow, laughing.

They spend a couple of hours dicking around on Stiles' new laptop before it's close to midnight and they go outside to watch Peter's neighbor light of the motherload of fireworks. They have a countdown going on Stiles' phone and as soon as it hits midnight, Peter pulls him in and they kiss as the barrage of fireworks goes off next door. 

"I'm glad I can start the new year with you," Stiles mumbles against Peter's lips.

"The first of many," Peter replies. 

Stiles snuggles into Peter's arms and watches the fireworks, a huge grin spread across his face.

-

Classes start again and so do Stiles' camming session with Peter. Now that the holidays are over and they can have regular, uninterrupted time, they're starting to go twice a week. Stiles has gotten more and more comfortable with stripping on camera and wearing a wide variety of panties for Peter so this time, he decides to step it up a bit.

He’s wearing the purple lace panties again, but this time when Skype connects, that’s all he’s wearing. He’s already hard. Peter’s eyes widen minutely, before he smooths his expression out.

 _“This is a surprise,”_ Peter says.

“I was thinking about you earlier,” Stiles says, tracing the line of his hard cock through the purple fabric. “I couldn’t help it. I was getting hard in class just thinking about the last time you fucked me.”

 _“Oh, did you?”_ Peter says.

“Yeah,” Stiles says. He reaches inside his panties, slowly pulling his hard cock out. Peter’s eyes follow his movements hungrily. “I kept thinking about how hard you fucked me and how you told me I was good for you.”

 _”You are good for me, Stiles. So very good for me,”_ Peter says.

Stiles starts stroking himself slowly, languidly, like he has nothing else to do in the world. Peter’s watches avidly, eyeing how Stiles’ precome smears down his shaft.

“Want you,” Stiles whimpers. “Want your hands on me. Your cock in me. Need you, Daddy.”

 _”You have me, baby,”_ Peter says. He reaches into his own pants and pulls out his thick cock. Stiles dick twitches in his hand at the sight. Peter licks his hand before he tugs at his dick, eyes on Stiles the whole time. _”Daddy will give you whatever you need.”_

“It feels so good, Daddy,” Stiles says. He stokes himself faster, the heat curling in his belly from being turned on for so long. “I need to come.”

 _”Make yourself come, baby. Let Daddy see you come,”_ Peter says. 

For a few moments, there’s nothing but the slick sounds of skin-on-skin, then Stiles starts to whimper, the pleasure rising in him.

“I’m close,” Stiles says. He reaches up and pinches at his nipple, rolling and twisting the nub in his fingers. 

_”Go one, baby, come for me,”_ Peter says.

It only takes a few more strokes until Stiles is coming over his hand, pleasure washing over him and come spilling onto the sheets. He keeps his eyes open, watching Peter’s face the whole time. 

“Are you gonna come, too, Daddy?” Stiles asks, running a finger through the come that splattered on his thigh.

 _”Yes, Daddy’s, fuck, fuck…”_ Peter cuts himself off and curses as he comes, come spilling from his thick cock. He groans, eyes closed and his dick pulses in his hands. _”Soon, baby, Daddy is going to buy you all the panties you could ever want.”_

Stiles giggles.

“I look forward to it.”

-

Barely a week later, when Peter picks Stiles up for their date, he smirks and tells Stiles they have a stop to make first.

“What? Where?” Stiles asks.

“I told you I’d buy you all the panties you could ever want,” Peter says. “We’re going to do that. And get you something special.”

“Where?”

“There’s a little shop on 5th I think you’d like,” Peter says.

Stiles doesn’t know what he’s expecting, maybe grimy windows and a sleazy guy at the front counter, but the store, simply called Desires, is more like a boutique than anything else. A cute redhead at the front greets them as they walk in and asks if they need any help.

“No, we’ll be just fine, thank you though,” Peter says.

The girls just smiles and goes back to folding panties.

The front of the store is full of lingerie for both men and women. Panties in all colors and sizes, for both people with penises and those without. Stiles didn’t know there was a market for this but wow, he’s not complaining. 

“Are these silk?” Stiles asks, running his fingers over the closest pair.

“Yes,” Peter says. He looks through the pile of light pink silk before he pulls one out in Stiles’ size. “Grab a handbasket please.”

Stiles grabs a basket from the stack by the front door (it’s an actual wicker handbasket! How fucking cute!) and brings it to Peter.

“We’re going to get you as many panties as your little heart desires, then we’ll make our way to the back of the store,” Peter says, nodding to a curtain that separates the front of the store from the back.

“What’s at the back?” Stiles asks.

“You’ll see. Now, pick out at least ten pairs that you like. I’ll grab a few I think we can’t live without, like this,” Peter says, picking up a light green thong. Stiles blushes, but the girl folding panties at the front doesn’t look over at them. 

Stiles makes his way through the tables, picking out a variety of pairs, from sheer to cotton, from bikini to a pair that has no back to them at all besides a few strings. He brings them to Peter, blushing slightly and sees that Peter has a few pairs in the bottom of that basket already. 

“Good, thank you, little one,” Peter says, adding Stiles’ picks the basket. “Now we’re going to get you a little something extra.”

Peter leads Stiles through the curtain and into what turns out to be a room full of sex toys. Stiles’ jaw drops. He likes to consider himself well-versed in sex, but there are things in this room that Stiles has never seen and doesn’t have the faintest idea what to do with. Luckily, Peter steers them toward a display of dildos, at least Stiles knows what they are. There’s another salesperson in here, but she also doesn’t invade their space, which Stile appreciates.

“I’m thinking about this one,” Peter says, picking up the display toy. It’s a deep purple silicone and when he presses a button at the bottom, starts to pulsate in his hand. “It’s to give you the feeling of something fucking into you when you’re playing,” Peter says.

Stiles’ eyes are wide. “That’s…that’s a thing?” 

“Oh yes,” Peter says. “I think it would be fun for you to play with when we’re Skyping, don’t you?”

Stiles’ mouth goes dry and the front of his pants are getting uncomfortably tight.

“Uh yes, yeah that, yes, that sounds good,” Stiles says with a cough.

Peter looks up and makes eye contact with the saleswoman, who immediately comes to them.

“Can I help you with something?” she asks.

“We’ll take a Fun Factory Zwei,” Peter says.

“In the black or purple?” she asks.

“Purple,” Stiles says.

“Purple,” Peter echoes. 

“All right, I’ll have that up at the register whenever you’re ready,” the woman says.

“Thank you,” Peter says, then turns back to Stiles. “Is there anything else you want to look at while we’re here?”

“Plugs?” Stiles asks. “The one I have is kind of small and I was thinking maybe, trying a bigger size?”

Peter smiles.

“Oh darling, you need only ask,” Peter says. 

Peter leads them to a row a plugs, some as thin as Stiles’ finger, some thicker than both of his fists put together.

“Okay, nothing like that,” Stiles says, pointing at one that looks alarming like a traffic cone. “Something medium I guess, like this?”

Stiles picks up a black plug off the rack and shows it to Peter.

“Perfect,” Peter says and adds it to the basket. 

Stiles doesn’t bother arguing with Peter about who’s going to pay, but his eyes do bulge out at the total. The pulsating toy itself was almost $200. Peter just pats him on the hand and says it’s a worthwhile investment. For $200, it better be.

Stiles manages to forget about the panties and the toys in the trunk of the car for most of their date. Peter takes Stiles to a baseball game, something Stiles has been aching to do since he moved to Berkeley and figured out the stadium was only a thirty minute drive away. Stiles isn’t an Oakland fan, but he’s a fan of the game of baseball so he’s more than thrilled to be there. He doesn’t remember the bag until they’re back at his apartment and Peter is pulling it from the trunk.

“I can’t stay tonight, little one,” Peter says sadly. “But I want you to play with this a bit and see how you like it. Maybe next time you cam for me, it’ll make an appearance.”

“Okay,” Stiles says. “I had a great time today.”

“I did, too,” Peter says. He kisses Stiles softly. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Stiles says.

Peter waits until Stiles gets in safely to drive away. Stiles wants to try out the new toy, he really does, but it needs to be charged and he needs to sleep so reluctantly, he puts in on the charger and climbs into bed.

The next day, after classes are finally over, Stiles locks himself in his room and tries out the toy and yes, he fucking loves it. It’s almost embarrassing how easily he comes. It doesn’t feel exactly the same as a real cock fucking him, but it has the pulsating thrust motion that gets just over his prostate. Stiles can’t wait to use it for Peter.

As luck would have it, their Skype date is the next night. Stiles waits on his bed, wearing nothing but the pale pink silky panties from the other day, the toy sitting next to him. Peter smiles when he appears on camera.

 _”Well don’t you look delectable,”_ Peter says.

“I wore them to class today,” Stiles says.

 _”Oh?”_

“It made me think of you the whole time,” Stiles says. “I was trying not to get hard in my ancient European history class.”

_”I’d say I’m sorry…”_

“But you’d be lying,” Stiles says. He holds up the purple toy. “This, by the way? Is incredible.”

 _”I’m glad,”_ Peter says.

“Do you wanna see?” Stiles asks.

Peter’s eyes darken. 

_“You know I do,”_ he says.

Stiles slowly pulls the panties down, exposing his plugged hole. Stiles smirks as Peter’s breath catches. Reaching between his legs, Stiles presses of the base of the plug, making him moan, before slowly easing it out, leaving his hole wet and open.

“I was thinking about you when I opened myself up,” Stiles says, fingering his slick hole. “About how thick your fingers are.”

Peter’s watching Stiles’ fingers disappearing, a look of utter hunger on his face. 

_”Were you?”_ Peter asks. _”Did you come?”_

“Not yet, I wanted to come for you,” Stiles says. He reaches for the toy beside him, pressing the tip against his hole. “I wanted you to watch me.”

 _”I’m watching, little one,”_ Peter says.

Stiles eases the toy into himself, groaning at the slight stretch, but it doesn’t hurt. He’s too well-prepared for that. He fucks himself with it a few times, giving Peter a beautiful view of his stretched hole, before turning the toy on.

Stiles keens as the toy thrusts into him, pulsating back and forth. It perfectly hits his prostate, pulling gasps and moans from him. Peter groaning, already working a hand over his cock. 

_”You look so good like that, Stiles”_ Peter says. _“Beautiful and slutty, your pretty hole being fucked open.”_

“Daddy,” Stiles whimpers.

The toy is so good that Stiles knows he won’t last long. He tilts his hips up, keeping on hand on the toy and giving Peter a wonderful view of it thrusting into him. 

“Feels so good, Daddy. Thank you for my toy.”

 _”Only the best for you, baby,”_ Peter grunts. _”Do you think you can come from me without touching that pretty cock of yours? Do you think you can come from this toy alone?”_

Stiles nods quickly. He’s come from Peter’s cock alone before, but never a toy. He knows, though, the way this is going, the Zwei will rip his orgasm from him soon. Especially with what Peter’s saying to him.

“I’m close,” Stiles says, eyes closing in pleasure.

 _”Eyes on me,”_ Peter says. _”I want to see you when you come.”_

Stiles keeps his eyes open, watching Peter as his orgasm flows over him, filling him with pleasure. He turns the toy off quickly but keeps it inside him as he rides out the waves of ecstasy. He lazily watches as Peter’s hand quickens, as he curses before spilling over his hand.

 _”You were magnificent, baby,”_ Peter says softly when they’ve both had a moment of rest.

Stiles grins.

“Thank you, Daddy.” 

-

Peter and Stiles have been together for eight months when Peter events him to a kink event. 

"A kink event? What exactly does that mean?" Stiles asks. They're lying in Stiles' bed, Stiles sprawled over Peter's bare chest.

"There's a large kink community near me and they're having a party," Peter says. 

"A party," Stiles says. "A little more detail, please? Like a sex party?"

"Some people will probably be having sex," Peter says with a shrug. "Usually there's an erotic reading and people mingle. There are areas where people can do displays, like flogging someone or shibari."

"Would you want to do that?" Stiles asks nervously. "Because I'm only an exhibitionist for you."

"Not at all," Peter says. "I'm rather selfish when it comes to you. I wouldn't share what we do with anyone else."

"Okay," Stiles says, relieved. "Well yeah, that sounds fun then. When?" 

"This weekend."

"What's the dress code?" 

"Very loose," Peter says with a smile. "Some people dress professionally, some just wear lingerie. As long as it's not ratty jeans and a t-shirt, it's usually fine."

"...You dress me, then," Stiles says. "Because I don't trust my sense of fashion as much as yours."

Stiles should have known by Peter's grin that he was going to get more than he bargained for. It turns out that Peter is very much like Lydia in the shopping aspect. They spend all day in and out of various store trying on pants, shirts, jackets, everything. Stiles is sure he only needs a pair of pants that doesn't have holes in them, but Peter gets on a roll and there's no stopping him. Stiles loses track of how much money Peter drops on the clothes, but he seems satisfied so Stiles only teases him a little bit. 

Stiles is nervous the night of the party. These are people Peter has known for years, people that he's friends with ("Friends is a strong word, Stiles.") and Stiles wants to make a good impression, something that he doesn't always do.

"You're worrying too much," Peter says. He keeps one hand on the wheel and uses his free hand to take Stiles'. "They will love you."

"If you say so," Stiles says.

"I do," Peter says.

The party is at someone's house, an English man named Deucalion. The man greets them at the door and embraces Peter like an old friend before shaking Stiles' hand and introducing himself.

"Please, call me Deuc. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask," he says.

"I'm Stiles," Stiles says. "Thanks for having me."

"Of course. It's been a while since we've seen Peter, we've all been wondering about the man who's managed to keep his attention," Deucalion says and looks at Stiles calculatingly. Stiles has the distinct feeling that he's being dissected. "Go ahead inside, Kali and Ennis are around somewhere if you feel say saying hi."

"I'm sure we'll find them," Peter says. 

Peter keeps a light hand on Stiles' lower back as they walk through the house. It's probably closer to a mansion Stiles realizes as they walk through to a large open living room. There are a few dozen people spread out. Like Peter had said, some of them are dressed to the nines, and others are walking around in nothing but a bra and panties. One girl is in just a thong and pasties. Stiles is glad he has his grey slacks and black button down. 

A few people wave to Peter as they walk through. A woman with startlingly long nails named Kali throws her arms around Peter, then Stiles too when she's introduced. Stiles stammers out an 'it's nice to meet you' and tries not to stare at her nipples through the sheer teddy she's wearing. 

Like Peter had said, there are a few demonstrations going on. A woman is bent over the arm of the couch, being flogged by a large man that Peter has pointed out as Ennis. There's man being fingered open on the love seat by woman wearing strap on. Next to them is - 

"Caitlin?" Stiles asks.

Caitlin turns around and her face lights up at she sees Stiles.

"Stiles!" she says and bounds over to them. 

Peter's hand twitches on Stiles' back, but then Stiles is hugging Caitlin.

"Peter, this is Caitlin," Stiles says, pulling back. "She's the domme I told you about that transferred schools."

"Pleasure to meet you," Peter says shaking her hand. His hand immediately wraps around Stiles' waist, tugging him a little closer.

"You too," Caitlin says. "So this is what you've been up to, Stiles. I approve." Caitlin winks at him.

"Yeah, he's pretty great," Stiles says, grinning. "You moving away was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Caitlin laughs. Peter nuzzles at Stiles' temple, placing a soft kiss there.

"I would have called, but I'm only here for tonight on a long layover," Caitlin says.

"It's fine," Stiles says. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm about to watch that guy get pegged," Caitlin says, pointing over her shoulder. "Deuc's the one who first got me into the scene and he invited me. What about you?"

"Peter," Stiles says. "This is his stomping ground."

"More or less," Peter says. "I've been spending my time in better ways lately." 

Peter trails his hand up Stiles' back to rest of the nape of his neck, rubbing his thumb absently over the skin behind Stiles' ear. Stiles tries very hard not to melt into the touch, but it's hard 

"How's NYU?" Stiles asks. 

Peter starts massaging Stiles' neck. Stiles tries not to whimper. He elbows Peter, but Peter just chuckles. Caitlin just watches them with faint amusement.

"It's good," she says. "Very different from Berkeley, but I like it."

Caitlin turns at the sound of her name being called. "Oh, I have to go talk to Deuc, I'll catch up with you later."

"Bye," Stiles says.

Caitlin bounces across the living room to Deucalion.

"Okay, what was that?" Stiles asks as soon as Caitlin is out of ear shot.

"What was what?" Peter asks innocently.

Stiles tugs Peter toward the edge of the living room and away from earshot of the rest of the guests. 

"That! You're not a prude, but you're never that affectionate in public," Stiles says.

"What, I can't touch my boyfriend?" Peter says.

"Peter, you know you've got me, right?" Stiles says. "I don't want Caitlin."

"I know," Peter says defensively. 

"Do you?" Stiles asks. "Because dude, what the hell?"

"I got...jealous," Peter mumbles.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Stiles asks.

"I got jealous," Peter says, exasperated. 

"There's nothing to be jealous of," Stiles says. "I'm with you. I _love_ you."

"I know," Peter says with a sigh. "It was stupid, okay?"

Stiles sighs. 

"I'm not mad at you," he says. "Just...surprised. Normally it's me who has bouts of self-doubt."

"I wish you wouldn't. You know how much you mean to me," Peter says.

"I know, exactly like how much you mean to me," Stiles says.

Peter looks at him for a long moment before gently tugging him in for a kiss.

"I'm sorry, love," Peter says.

"It's okay, I don't mind you touching me," Stiles says with an exaggerated wink. "I'd just rather it be because you want to, not because you're peeing in a circle around me."

Peter makes a face at that. 

"I promise," Peter says.

"Good. Let's go enjoy some people having public sex now," Stiles says, taking Peter by the hand and tugging them back into the living room.

The party isn't bad, Stiles meets a lot of interesting people. He chats with Caitlin a bit more throughout the night and Peter is more relaxed. He does keep physical contact with Stiles for most of the night, but that's not that surprising to Stiles. Peter had said before they left for the party that he wanted to show him off.

They watch Ennis finish flogging the woman on the couch and the woman with the strap on peg the man she's with. Kali paddles her partner, Julia, then Caitlin, who it turns out is a switch, gets on her knees for Deucalion. Deucalion asks Peter if he and Stiles are interested in performing but Stiles firmly shakes his head no.

"I'm a selfish man," Peter says, splaying a possessive hand over Stiles' back.

"Yes, you never did share very well, did you?" Deucalion muses. 

Stiles just leans into Peter's touch happily. 

When they leave, it's well past midnight. Stiles is trying very hard not to fall asleep on the car ride home (it's only ten minutes, god) but soon enough, Peter is waking him up as they pull into the driveway. Stiles only brushes his teeth because Peter makes him, then he's face planting into Peter's ridiculously soft bed.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," Peter says, crawling in behind Stiles. He wraps an arm around his waist and kisses him.

"Thanks for inviting me," Stiles says, then yawns hugely.

"Go to sleep, little one," Peter murmurs.

"Already there," Stiles mumbles and drops off a moment later.

-

Stiles stays in Berkeley for spring break and spends nearly all his time at Peter's. Peter still has to work, but he can do a lot of it from home so even if it's something as simple as both of them on their laptops in the same room, it still means something to Stiles. 

The night before Stiles has to go back to class, he's lying on the couch with his head in Peter's lap, fucking around on his phone, when Peter puts down the book he's been reading and starts to lazily card his fingers through Stiles' hair. Stiles puts his phone down and glances up at Peter, who's looking down at him thoughtfully.

"What is it?" Stiles asks.

"I was thinking," Peter says slowly, "that I want you to move in with me."

Stiles' jaw drops. He looks up at Peter incredulously. 

"I, what?"

"Move in with me," Peter says again, like it's the easiest thing in the world.

"Peter, I can't drive 50 miles to campus everyday," Stiles says.

"So we'll get a place closer to town," Peter says easily.

"...You're serious?" Stiles asks. "Peter, you love your house."

"I _like_ my house. I _love_ you. And I want to spend as much time with you as possible," Peter says.

"You - you're sure?" Stiles asks. 

"There are fifty miles between us and we spend most of our time at each other's places already. Think of the gas we'll save," Peter says with a smirk.

Stiles snorts.

"I...Okay," Stiles says, grinning. He rolls over so he can kneel on the couch. "Okay, let's do this. Let's move in together."

Peter's face blooms into a smile. He grabs Stiles' face as kissing him soundly, licking into his face until they're both breathless. 

"Good, I've already been looking at places," Peter says, leaning forward to reach for his laptop. "Okay, so this one is a two-bedroom condo and has a sauna..."

Stiles relaxes into Peter's side and lets his boyfriend go through the homes he's already looked at for them. And to think, he has Whiplr of all things to thank.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [ tumblr ](http://www.hotpinklizard.tumblr.com) or my [ main blog](http://www.femmmefatalist.tumblr.com).


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